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The Inside Dope

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by Iffy the Dopester

Hey! Happy 1976 to all my pals out there. Hope y'all had a real good time bringin' in the New Year and replenishing your energies for a fresh effort. Personally, my little Jamaica jaunt was just what the doctor ordered, but before long I was intchin' to feel the snow-covered sidewalks of Woodward Ave. beneath my feet. From what I heard, folks got down in style, and I couldn't help thinking it was more like y'all were so happy that '75 was over with than that '75 was here.

Seriously though, the year looks chock-full of promise from where we sit. We're hearing a lot of good feedback from folks all over town about what we're trying to do here at the SUN, and the entries are just pourin' in for the Second Annual win a Pound of Colombian Contest. True, the straight press around here doesn't seem to have much of a grip on what the Contest is all about, we know from your response that the people sure know what's goin' on! So keep those cards and letters comin' -- we'll send 'em on to Lansing if you give us the word, and maybe someday soon our legislators will get the message, too. 

The broadcast media, in all fairness, generally did pick up on the story and allow us to make our point and both Terry Murphy of Ch. 2 and Dave Whitman of Ch. 7 obviously enjoyed covering it so much that they undoubtedly share direct knowledge of the joys of weed. Also on Ch. 7, though, Jack LeGoff came on more like somebody's father, warning everybody of how dangerous all this is. The daily papers, sad to say, came through with their usual shoddy performances. The Free Press, Detroit's supposed bastion of liberalism, ran three graphs headed "Pot Promoters Not Afraid of Police" -- not very different from the News, which promised a "trip to jail" for the winner. Have mercy! How many people in the city rooms smoke it? Most of them, we'd be willing to bet. And veteran toker Bob Talbert of the Freep, despite his obvious glee at the opening press conference, has yet to say one word. 

By the way, if you're digging on the paper, or if you got some changes you'd like to suggest, we'd like to direct your attention for a moment to our very first Reader Survey, which is included in this issue. If you'd be so kind as to take a few minutes to answer the questions and return the form (postage is free) to us here at the Leland House, it would mean a whole lot as far as our being able to give you more of what you want in the coming year. It would also, of course, help us get more advertisers into the paper, which means more pages of news, views, reviews, and previous for everybody. We appreciate it!

We hadn't been back in town very long when we heard that the owners of the former Anchor Bar, the local sleazo hangout for journalists, Mafiosi, and cops, were planning on opening up a new place in the Shelby Hotel under the name of the Subway. (it'll take you where you want to go.") The Anchor, which had a habit of keeping its doors open far into the night, was shut down by jealous Feds, but owner Leo Dederian has sent out press releases to all his old guzzlers at the papers and wire services offering half-price drinks at the Subway between 3 and 8 p.m. We haven't been by ourselves to check it out, but we sure can use more jumping places in downtown Detroit, so more power to Leo and Co. if they can make it happen!

What we'd really like to see in this town, though, in all candor, is an old-fashioned speakeasy for the city's reefer maniacs. They've got 'em in New York, and in this age of enlightenment, why we shouldn't have 'em here is beyond me. Maybe there are some, but ol' Iffy hasn't heard about it yet, and he's gettin' a little old to smoke in the johns. If we're missing something, by all means get the word on the Iffograph, and we'll see ya there!